Silence is the golden rule
by Winkaku
Summary: Vynl had long since become used to the fact that she would never have a physical voice. Thankfully, Octavia was more than glad to make every sound she couldn't. OctaScratch.


(A/N: Inspired by a brony and the works of Jon Gomm, I took the idea of girl on girl as a challenge and... well... this is where I ended up... Not bad, if I do say so myself.)

In memory Vynl laid her cheek to the rosewood instrument of her raven haired love, she sat in silence to feel the vibrations of cello bow and string in tune with the throb of her heart and the pulse of blood in her veins. She felt at the pull of the metal vibrations that sang in taught cords until wandering fingers sought the thump and wine of a wooden frame and fabricated sound. Fingernails biting into wood to birth the heady hiss of passion, she had stopped with her muse, if only to sheepishly glance into the distance of the past.

"Vynl?"

A whisper of concern as the bow slowed to a halt in its play across the strings.

With a glance to the side and a blush, Vynl shivered and pulled her hands from the cello.

"Do it again."

Eyes reaching, Vynl let her fingers wander yet again, her forbidden grey love following with the strokes of a silk haired bow across the strings. It sounded like a wine, accompanied by the hiss of fingernails on wood, an instructor would have balked from such a sound but Octavia pushed her partner onward with a smile. The hiss of nails on wood blended with the wine of strings pushed to and fro as eager pale hands sought frets and knobs. Eyes meeting and fingers plucking, Vynl's fingertips became a welcome accompaniment to a song that was transformed into a duet all their own, a sound unlike any other. Albino fingertips danced beside an ivory white bow as lessons and drills fell unto the heartbeat of pure creation.

That was her lover, that was their bond, sound and silence forged into the staccato hiss of voicelessness pulled asunder unto breathless nirvana. That was what it meant to be, for Vynl at least, she could scarcely imagine what her lovers eyes and ears had perceived, let alone at the present day. The then made into now.

Honestly, Vynl never had been one for silence before, it was all too dull and empty, but no one could do silence quite like Octavia. They were together at her home in the high rise mansions of the rich, her parents were downstairs talking over tea. So, right now, silence was more important than ever, they might otherwise get caught, and that would take away the look on that beautiful face between her legs.

Whether they were sneaking out to the roof or skipping class to shake down a bottle of whiskey cinnamon, silence was of utmost importance. Even when they were trying to see who could make who scream the loudest through a pillow under the blast of music from the beatbox on Octavia's dresser drawer at the foot of her bed. Vynl had given it to her as a gift, an old hand-me-down that still managed to make the windows rattle. The best part was that, due to house rules, Octavia couldn't lock the doors to her room. They'd almost got caught once, found in a pile on the floor beside the bed, a tangle of clothes and candle wax, they'd somehow managed to pass it off as magic practice gone awry. The Magic had been damn fine with Octavia dribbling hot wax all down Vynls thighs, the grey girls mauve cutie mark and leg thrust up under Vynl's beaten buttocks. Who knew that the rich girl could slap ass that hard, she'd been red cheeked for three days straight. She could still smell the sulfur of the matchsticks and burnt candle wicks, the heady scent of smoke in the air between their pale bellies.

This time they'd gotten together under the pretense of a study group. The only thing Vynl could study right now was just how boss the girl looked in her violet tinted DJ glasses. They were an absolute tangle on the bedsheets by the window, the alarm wards would give warning but right now there would be no getting apart if her parents came up. The window shades were closed, the curtains pulled down by rough-housing, so no peeking tonight. They only left the windows open at midnight, with only one candle lit. Some part of them both wanted to be seen.

Black hair flowed in the dark of the room, silk sheets rustling, one of Vynl's mix tapes playing in the background. They couldn't play too loud, but just loud enough.

Vynl had been pushed forward onto her front, gagged by Octavia's own pillow, her black jeans and violet panties down to her knees as her backside hung in the air. Octavia slowly crept forward to claim plump lips for herself, all the haughtiness of the upper class in the set of her shoulders, all the night's twilight in her eyes. She knew that look made Vynl wet. The two parted lips as raven hair climbed between pale thighs to the beat of drums, to the beat of their hearts, laying light kisses along her spine. First the light touch of a hot lick on the hip, tiny nipping kisses along a back and belly pearly with beads of sweat, and slowly to dapple touches of her nose and eyelashes and lips right onto her lover's backside; slapped red by her own hands. Then she withdrew until Vynl had nothing but the grey angels breath on her, heated puffs peppering her straining ass cheeks. Even still sore from the right beating that was their last meet, Vynl would gladly take another slap to the thighs over this edging. Vynl could actually feel the smile on her face as the girl set her mouth to the sides of her cunt, sucking and tonguing at the labia until they turned pink beside the pale that was Vynls skin, dark rose petals set in silvered sweating white. Vynl rocked and shivered as she dribbled fluid down her inner thighs. With both hands Octavia grabbed Vynl by the backside and shoved her face into that hot haven. A wet tongue, another lick, another nip, another drawling suckling sigh. Octavia held onto shaking thighs, the two of them so sweaty they shined in the lamplight. Digging her hands into white flesh slapped red the upperclass girl thrust her tongue in and Vynls albino face flushed as she bit into the pillow. They rocked together on the mattress, shivering under Octavia's cussing curling lunging, and so very, very quiet in the dark. First one finger alongside the tongue, then two, three, and four as the cellist turned from eating her out to sucking on her clit and fucking her on those oh so talented fingers. Vynl flipped over onto her back, legs swinging wildly, and bit down hard on her gag and screamed hoarsely in garbled sounds as she came hard on the others thrusting digits and sucking mouth, thighs clamping down like a vice, an arm wedged between her back and the mattress. Sprawled in silk sheets Vynl writhed under her like a snake, pretty pink panties flying off to land on the boombox.

Octavia pulled away with a smile as Vynl sagged with a squeak, pulling herself up to a more formal position. Messy and disheveled, Vynl twisted around to face her secret lover, blushing as the girl plucked a bright blue pube out of her teeth. They took one look at each other and burst out laughing as much as they could.

There was a knock at the door, Octavia shreaked as they tumbled to the mattress with a thud.

"It's getting late now, you need to turn down the music." The doorknob rattled.

Thinking quickly Octavia mustered her courage and shouted " Father please! I'm getting changed." With a sigh the voice retreated as her father left to get ready for bed.

That night, rasping laughs on the floor like a fool, Vynl felt like she was talking.

Laughing lips met as they kissed and tongues dueled in tandem, the "bass drop" kicked in and Vynl lunged forward to get on top of the other. Pale fingers danced down grey thighs as if playing down the notes of a keyboard and scratch record. She reached for a bottle of olive oil, extra virgin, they'd gotten it as a joke, never thinking it would come so much in handy. They kissed deeper, Vynl pouring the oil onto her front and legs as a white thigh slid under grey buttocks, coming to a stop so that her lover straddled her leg completely. In time with the thuds of bass and strings, electric violin screeching on solo, Vynl pumped her legs on the others clit, sweat cooled heat rubbing up against hot skin. They were pushing it this time, that made it all the better, let the world see them as they are. The raven haired girl shined like pewter as oil slicked bodies fucked in time to one another, moving as one. The oil made them slippery, Vynls thick white thigh pushing hot and hard into her lover, muscles moving under skin as the other thrust into her hips, riding the bulging flesh of legs made powerful by the sheer stubborn desire to rise high in a world run by everyone else. They'd been moving too much, too fast, too hard as the bed shook and whacked the dresser. The boom box fell off with a shriek of static and the shock of discordant sound startled Octavia into coming hard, oozing all down ivory thighs, singing the high notes of an opera swallowed into a greedy kiss, trembling the whole way down.

They could hear footsteps, and voices. Still shaking Octavia gathered herself as best she could, pushed Vynl off the bed, and screamed.

"It was a mouse!"

The door burst open as Octavia's parents tried to get through the threshold and the girl screamed again, pulling her covers about herself.

"I'm naked for heaven sakes!" She slammed the door in their faces.

One good thing about high society was that no one was ever supposed to see you naked, or be naked around you. It was a good way to buy time when everyone thought you were too young and innocent for sex and sin.

Vynl cackled like a hen, laid out, soaked in oil on the floor in a half naked pile, rasping in chuckles as she typed onto her cellphone.

-Yeah, it sure was a mouse!-

Octavia couldn't help laughing enough for the both of them.


End file.
